You're Sick
by LadyBugger
Summary: Just some Sick!Sam inspired by the beginnng of ep 9x08. Enjoy.


Dean was watching his brother yawing, trying to keep his eyes open and his head straight for about a minute, when he spoke:

"You're sick."

"No, I'm not sick."

Yeah, sure Dean thought. Sam continued, like he read his brother's mind "I just feel like my batteries can't recharge."

Dean wasn't buying it. Sam looked pale and exhausted. Even the simple act to utter some words seemed to be too much for his little brother that now had his head resting on his right hand and his eyes closed.

Dean quickly put his palm on Sam's forehead; he was sure his brother had a fever.

"Bullshit Sam. You're warm."

"Dean…" When Sam didn't know what to say, he always said Dean's name in a kind of moan, like he suddenly was 5.

"No. Back to bed immediately. I'll be there in a sec." And said so, Dean stood up and went into his own room.

Sam reached the bed just in the moment Dean entered the room with water, a thermometer and pills in his hands.

"I don't know if this is a simple flu or just the aftermath of the trials but I don't wanna take risks so today you're not going out of bed, understand?"

"C'mon Dean. I'm fine. This is nothing compared with the trials."

"Like I said, I don't care, you're resting today. Now, temperature."

Dean was holding the thermometer just under Sam's nose so he had no other choice than to take it and place it under his tongue 'till the thing made its beep.

Sam's fever was low, 100.6, so Dean decided to gave him a generic cold medicine. He put the soluble pill into the water and hand the glass to Sammy.

"Drink it all"

The brother made an annoyed face "Not five anymore Dean."

His older brother smiled, grabbed the glass that was now empty, tucked Sam in and went out of the room. Before closing the door he said: "Ok Sammy, rest. I'll check on you later."

The way Dean tucked him in, trigged a memory in Sam's mind. As he closed his eyes, the memory overwhelmed him.

It was a cold dark winter night and he was like 7 years old, more or less, and really sick.

He was waiting for his Dad to come back from the store and in the meantime Dean was reading something about dinosaurs to him.

When John entered the door, he immediately checked Sam's fever then asked Dean how they were doing.

"His temperature is up, dad."

John smiled to Dean but he was worried. His youngest son had been laying in bed for a week now with a insanely high fever. He called a doctor two days ago who gave him some stronger flu medicine and injected Sam a mix of drugs, so they couldn't do much right now.

"Okay Dean. Go to bed. You need rest too."

"So do you. You don't look so good, dad."

Dean glanced at Sam one more time before crawling into his bed and try to rest.

"Don't worry Dean, Sam will be fine." John said and he kissed his son goodnight.

"Daddy?" Sammy voice was reaching for his dad and John was ready to comfort him all night. He knew he wasn't going to sleep.

"Hey Sammy. How you're feeling?" John said, ruffling the kid's hair. Gosh, his fever was at least 103 high.

"Not so good" John smiled; Sammy didn't complaint about how crappy he was feeling, 'cause of course 'not so good' was an euphemism.

"I know. Sammy, would you take some medicine for me?"

Sam made a face but nodded. "Good boy."

John went to the kitchen, he pour some tea he made earlier in a glass and put the glass into the microwave to heat it up. He took the capsules the doctor gave him as well and went back to Sam's bed.

"Here Sammy. You must drink something."

Sammy smiled, took the medicine and a few sips of his tea. John pass a hand first on his forehead then in his tangled hair.

"Ok, time to sleep." He said.

"Dad, I can't."

John didn't need to ask why. The fever was making the little boy restless. After lots of fevers, John learned how to deal with his sick boys, so he went to the refrigerator and took some ice. He wrapped it in a cloth and he started passing the cold cloth on Sam's forehead, cheeks and chest. He hoped this would work soon.

When Sam's eyes seemed ready to close, John tucked him under the blankets and kissed him on the top of the head.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Sam popped his eyes open. He was sure that there was something on his forehead just a second ago.

He looked quickly around him and saw his brother at his left.

"Hey hey, take it easy. It's me." Dean said.

"Dean? What the hell…"

Dean looked confused as he explained "I only palmed your forehead to check your temp, Sammy. Chill out. By the way, I think you're better."

"I told you it was nothing" Sam said trying to sit up.

"No, no, no. You're still not going out of bed."

"Dean…" again, Sam's moaning tone.

"I brought you a stew. Are you hungry?"

And Sam smiled.


End file.
